With a glass full of delicious red wine to warm me, I sit in the blaring sunshine. Barely able to see my computer screen because of the glare, I keep thinking that maybe I just need to think these thoughts out a bit more before laying them down. But maybe I have already thought too much.
The wine is a sweet little bottle that I bought as a gift for a friend who I thought would appreciate it. This friend was someone who was enthusiastic in his admiration of me, as he seemed instantly familiar with all of the things about me, for which I was most proud and grateful. He said I was different and he made me believe that he enjoyed me. Everything about him seemed magical- as if he made love to whatever he was playing, cooking, saying or wearing. I couldn't wait for him to love me like that. Hooked on his line, I sank hard and fast for all of the "right" things that he and his baited breath employed to lure me. Now that I have my head back on I realize that the only thing funnier than him promising me that he was "not an asshole," was that I believed him. Even on his way out he kept throwing kisses, to divert attention from the fact that he was slipping away. Capitalizing on a personal misfortune (if that's even currently true), he even made me feel for him in spite of my feeling of stupidity that slowly crept in.
We see, think and feel whatever we want to believe is true. The nagging in my gut told me that he was a little too forthcoming, a little too rehearsed and too good to be true. His stories kept changing, but he always had good reasons for that. I didn't want to know all of this because I am a pathological tryer. I believe in love. I believe that love is real and isn't the impossible task that eludes the majority of people. Friends frequently tell me that what I'm looking for isn't real. But it is! It's in me- so it is real. I've been silly many times in my life, holding onto things that weren't really there. I guess that's what happens when you want something so bad that it hurts... you do anything to get it.
Fortunately this time I didn't hold on. I feel for the guy because something has to be seriously flawed in a person's makeup, that causes them to be manipulative and dishonest. But it is infuriating to have someone play with your heart just to get what they want. Where does someone get the self-appointed right to play that game with another person? How can someone be so greedy that they don't care that they are stealing a piece of someone's soul? At this point I think that in spite of the embarrassment of impaling myself on his cross (out loud for the whole world to witness) I'm just grateful that I've given up my stupid ass tendency to hold on, hoping that my love would find its way to fruition with him. It's such a relief, really, because curing myself takes all of the energy that I can muster and really, if no one ever really asked for it, what right do I have to try to give it?
All of this time that I have spent on my own has taught me more about love than I ever imagined love could be. It is the divine love that we have for ourselves, that disallows the maladies of greed, assumption, need, disrespect, and even loneliness. The greater the realization that I AM LOVE, the more okay I am with waiting for someone's pure and generous gift of the same. And to be compassionate toward those who have contributed to my hurt feelings...just a manifestation of what love really is. It's me. I am love...and I do love this wine!
Another edge stretched!
A sociopath is typically defined as someone who lies incessantly to get their way and does so with little concern for others. A sociopath is often goal-oriented (i.e., lying is focused - it is done to get one's way). Sociopaths have little regard or respect for the rights and feelings of others. Sociopaths are often charming and charismatic, but they use their talented social skills in manipulative and self-centered ways (see, lovefraud, for more on sociopaths).
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